


Lovers In Japan

by ashamedbliss



Category: Muse
Genre: Blow Jobs, Comedy, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 10:17:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashamedbliss/pseuds/ashamedbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fun and games aren't as innocent as they often seem...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lovers In Japan

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this picture](http://s912.photobucket.com/user/ashamedbliss/media/random%20GIFs/A1-1.png.html), and a love of red hair.
> 
> Originally written with fishofpwoper on livejournal.

Matthew’s fingers fiddled with the mobile phone in the pocket of his baggy jeans as he strode down the aisle of the bus, giving Chris a small wave with his free hand as he reached the fridge. The bassist was hunched over the small coffee table almost comically, no doubt writing Kelly a postcard adorned with a picture of a local temple. Abandoning the device, Matthew withdrew his hand from his pocket and opened the small door, making a racket as he searched through all the food.  
  
“Beer?  _Two_  beers?” Chris asked, raising his eyebrows under his long curly hair as he watched the front man wrap his fingers around the necks of the bottles.  
  
“For me and Dom?” Matthew replied, questioning himself even though he was sure of his actions. He delicately plonked the bottles down on the kitchenette counter, noisily rummaging through drawers to find a bottle opener.  
  
“Hmm,” Chris said, flipping the postcard in his hands as he thought. “Didn’t think you liked beer, that’s all.”  
  
Grinning, Matthew ran a hand through his freshly-dyed red hair. “But this is  _Japanese_  beer, Chris. Much, much better than whatever it is that they serve down the local back home.” Finding a bottle opener with a triumphant whoop, the caps were off in seconds and the bottles were on their way to their destination.  
  
“Took you long enough,” Dom remarked cheekily, thanking his friend as he brought the bottle to his lips, sighing as the cool liquid slid down his throat.  
  
The area they were sitting in was right at the back of bus, the carpet covered with large bean bags and floor cushions and just out of sight of any prying eyes, thanks to a well placed curtain. Chris, Tom and the rest of the crew didn’t dare go near; they all knew it was Matt and Dom’s ‘den’. Although the boys themselves preferred to call it a fort. They’d never admit that, though.  
  
It wasn’t as naughty as it sounded. They merely sat there and talked, drank and often smoked, talking about their ideal girlfriends or dreaming of stadiums they’d never be famous enough to play. It had all been innocent, until that night.  
  
Matt flopped down onto a bean bag and took a sip of his beer, placing the bottle on the floor beside him and bringing up a hand to his lips. He chewed intently on a fingernail before glancing in Dom’s direction with a raised eyebrow. “You were saying?” he prompted, with a wave of his free hand.  
  
Dom blinked for a while, settling himself and shrugging. “I was just thinking about the roller disco. Remember the roller disco?”  
  
Matt snorted with a hand over his mouth. “All I remember is your fourteenth birthday at that place. You made me swear to dress up in a costume and nobody else did. They called me ‘Batmatt’ for  _weeks_!”  
  
“Well, that’s your fault for being so bloody gullible, isn’t it?” Dom said with an expression on this face that clearly showed his remorse, or lack thereof. “I liked your costume, though. Where did you get it from?”  
  
Matt shrugged, turning his head away, though Dom could see a blush colouring his cheeks. “I don’t remember,” the smaller man mumbled. “It was ages ago, Dom. Was that kid with the built-up shoe there? Why did you invite  _him_?”  
  
“Stop trying to change the subject, Bells,” Dom said patiently, reaching out with his foot to kick Matt’s shin. “Where did you get your costume?”  
  
Matt sighed, looking back over at Dom. His face was a violent shade of red, almost blending with his hair. “My gran made it for me,” he said. “Out of old jumpers and shit. I used to sit and watch her making it, and I used to run back to the cupboard to get more thread when she needed it.” He shook his head, rubbing at his forehead in embarrassment. “And then I got to your party and everyone just looked at me like, ‘Fucking hell, is this what he wears on a weekend?’  
  
”Dom bit down on his bottom lip, attempting to stifle the burst of laughter that threatened to erupt from him. He struggled to bring his smile back to a neutral expression, but the shake in his voice as he spoke was unmistakable. “I pulled in a Batman suit once. Isn’t it funny how you get laughed at and I get laid when we wear the same clothes? Says something about you, really, doesn’t it?”  
  
Matt responded with a pillow, throwing it in Dom’s direction and folding his arms across his chest with a scowl. “Sod off,” he said bitterly. “This was when you used to crawl the streets in your superhero costumes trying to pick up anyone who’d throw themselves at you, wasn’t it?”  
  
“Don’t be cheeky, Matt! Just because you’re jealous doesn’t mean you have to be rude,” Dom chided, wagging his finger patronisingly. “You never know, one day I might dig them out again and the ladies will love it.” He stopped to give an exaggerated wink and watched as Matt, who had been sipping daintily from his beer, choked on a gulp and proceeded to burst out into a fit of laughter that was somewhere between a ridiculous giggle and a hacking cough.  
  
Dom watched as his friend proceeded to beat himself severely on the chest several times, letting out huge, whooping coughs in an attempt to clear his throat, before placing his beer on the floor and looking at Dom inquisitively. “You  _really_  pulled in a Batman suit?”  
  
The drummer nodded with a grin, pride etched across his face. “Yep. Fucked a girl in a nurse’s outfit too, once.”  
  
Matt waggled his eyebrows with much bravado, a satisfied tone to his voice as he spoke. “Is this a secret kink of  _the great lover_? Uniforms?”  
  
Dom’s eyes dropped to his feet; it was his turn to blush. “I... well...”  
  
Before he could register what was happening, Matt had leaned across to his bean bag and, with the aid of his inhumanly long fingers, was jabbing the drummer repeatedly in the ribs. Dom winced as Matt clasped a tiny area of skin at Dom’s waist and began to nip, pinching and twisting until Dom finally caved. “Yes, okay? It really,  _really_  turns me on to be able to roleplay in bed, alright? Happy now?”  
  
The redhead had already fallen back onto his bean bag, clutching his stomach as silent giggles erupted from between his lips. He looked in Dom’s direction with a smirk, snorting heavily as the laughter returned in earnest.“  
  
Oi, skinny,” Dom said sourly, reaching over to bat a cushion against Matt’s head, “you tell me something now.”  
  
The singer thought for a moment, still chuckling to himself. “I once did it in a park,” he said eventually, glancing in Dom’s direction with a lewd grin.  
  
The drummer squinted at Matt for a moment, before raising his bottle and pointing it in Matt’s direction. “I know,” he deadpanned, his expression blank. “I was listening.”  
  
Matthew spat a cloud of beer droplets out, Dominic breaking out in laughter as the smaller man wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Before he could open his mouth to babble, Dominic swooped in with an explanation.  
  
“Of course I wasn’t, you twat,” Dominic laughed, watching as Matthew cleared his throat and sipped on his beer again. “But really? The Den?”  
  
Matthew shook his head, his brow creasing. “Nah, the park in Exeter. You know that one time when we bunked off school, just to go up there and piss around?” Dom nodded. “We sat under this massive tree once and threw leaves at each other. I did it right there.”  
  
Shuddering, Dominic smirked. “Remind me to never go anywhere near that place again.”  
  
With a shrug and a frown, Matthew settled himself further into the beanbag that was currently swallowing him. “Don’t worry,” he said, smiling when he saw Dominic raise his bottle to his lips. “I shot my load into the bushes. The grass under the tree’s completely clean.”  
  
It was Dominic’s turn to spray his beer across their fort. Wiping a dribble of liquid off his chin, he turned to his friend who was letting out peals of high pitched laughter that bounced off the walls of the bus. “I got you back,” he croaked, putting his bottle down to clutch his stomach as he laughed.  
  
“Still,” Dominic said lightly, resuming their game. “Having your naked, sweaty bum wiped all over the grass isn’t the best mental image. Makes me sick thinking about it,” he said, pointing two fingers into his mouth and pretending to gag.  
  
“Fuck off.” Matthew dismissed him with a roll of his eyes and a flick of his wrist, permanent marker snaking up his arms. “You tell me something now.”  
  
Dominic screwed up his nose, taking another nonchalant swig of his beer. “I already did,” he replied lightly, watching with amusement as Matt scowled to himself.  
  
“So?” the frontman shrugged. “Tell me something  _else_. I’ll tell you something else in return. Fact for fact, Dom. C’mon.” He leaned over to the drummer and elbowed him roughly in the side. “We’re friends. We can tell each other anything. No making rude comments about anything the other says. Come on, Dom, _please_?” he whined, stretching out the vowels.  
  
Dominic pulled a face, fingers lightly drumming along the side of his bottle. “Alright, alright, fine,” he sighed, eyes rolling toward the ceiling as he tried to think of something that Matthew would approve of. “Back home, this young couple who lived next door used to have really loud sex, and sometimes I would get off on it,” he said, looking down to fiddle with one of the cushions, unable to meet Matthew’s eyes.  
  
Matthew struggled to swallow down the tirade of jeers and petty insults that were desperate to run free. He pursed his lips for a moment, sitting back on his bean bag and attempting to pretend he had no opinion of Dom’s recent confession. “I used to wear my mum’s old silk gloves when I was wanking ’cause it felt nice.”  
  
“Silk gloves?” Dominic asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.  
  
“You’re not allowed to ask questions,” Matthew said, his cheeks turning pinker than the beer had left them.  
  
“Your  _rules_  said ‘no rude comments’. I’m merely trying to find out more,” the drummer said, peering down the neck of his bottle to look at his beer.  
  
“Fine, fine. They were these white, elbow length gloves. Found them in her wardrobe one day. Happy?”  
  
“Matt...”  
  
“What?”  
  
“They were probably her wedding gloves, you know,” Dominic said seriously. Matt’s face drained of colour, eyes darting over his friend’s features.  
  
“You’re joking,” Matthew laughed nervously, eyes still watching the blond’s face. “Right? Like you were joking about hearing me in the park?  _Right_?”  
  
Dominic cleared his throat, thankfully having a new secret already waiting at the tip of his tongue. “I took Jane Bloomfield’s virginity because she paid me a tenner.”  
  
Matthew clapped his hand to his face as he tried not to laugh. Jane had been known throughout Teignmouth Community College as the girl guys wouldn’t touch with a barge pole, let alone touch her like _that_. “I once fingered two girls at once,” he contributed with a shrug.  
  
Dominic blinked. “With the  _same hand_?” he asked.  
  
The singer turned to Dominic with a reply that could only be expressed in silence. He shook his head slowly; it was less of a negative reply to the drummer’s question and more of a moment of disbelief. It still stunned Matthew that sometimes Dominic could be so painfully  _blond_.  
  
Dom rubbed at his eyes with an angry pout. “Come on, Matt, that’s a damn lie and you know it,” he said, attempting to regain his upper hand in their conversation.  
  
Matt bristled, indignant. “Is  _not_! And you’re not allowed to comment!” he said, running a hand through his bright red hair in frustration.  
  
“I will if it’s not true!” Dom retorted, brandishing his near-empty beer bottle in Matt’s direction. “You’re breaking your own rules, Bells.”  
  
“I have photographic evidence, Dom,” Matthew deadpanned, looking Dom right in the eyes. In his near drunken state, Dominic couldn’t work out if this should disgust him or turn him on. He settled for the former.  
  
“Ugh, fine, okay, I believe you,” he said, wrinkling up his nose in (mock) disgust and swirling the little contents of his bottle about. “Let’s see...” he paused. “I’ve never given head to a bloke,” he said, sipping at the dregs of his beer.  
  
Matthew watched as Dominic’s nose twitched slightly. One of the great benefits of being with someone day in day out for the majority of your life was that you knew when they were pulling the other one. “You’re lying,” he whispered. Dominic flicked him an innocent look and shook his head imperceptibly. However, Matthew knew better than to give into his friend’s famous puppy-dog eyes. “No, no, you have, haven’t you?” he asked, sitting up straighter in his seat. Dominic rolled his eyes then downed the rest of his bottle. “You  _have_!” the singer said, kneeling and sitting on his feet. He lowered his voice, the tone having the same effect on Dom that the thought of Matthew in pornography had earlier. “Fuck, what was it like?” Matt growled.  
  
“Do you want another beer?” Dominic practically shrieked, clutching his beer bottle and leaping to his feet. “I’m going to go get another beer,” he said, moving to brush the makeshift door (which was really a glorified bed sheet pinned to the ceiling) aside.  
  
Of course, Matthew’s stubborn nature shone through and he grabbed Dominic’s wrist, spinning him around and tugging the blond back into the den. On his knees in front of the the drummer, Matthew’s eyes slowly travelled from the crotch of stonewashed jeans up a baggy t-shirt towards his friend’s face.“Dom,” he said, gulping. “I  _know_ you have. What was it--”  
  
“Dom! Matt!” Chris’ voice was dangerously close to their easily misinterpreted situation, so Matthew quickly yanked Dominic back down onto the cushions, settling back himself just as the bassist gingerly pushed the hanging sheet aside. “I thought if I called down the hall, I could warn you in case...”  
  
“In case what?” Matthew asked innocently, an arm casually thrown around Dom’s shoulders.  
  
“Nothing. Forget I said it,” Chris said, pushing some stray hair behind his ear. “Anyway, listen. Tom just called. He went out for a walk with his camera earlier and he keeps getting requests for naked photo shoots from groups of men.”  
  
Matthew giggled, holding his hand up to his nose. “Oh, God, did he get lost near the  _gay_  district?” he giggled, Dom smirking at his side. “I  _told_ him to turn around and come back if he could smell Chanel No. 5 on the blokes.”  
  
“I’d love to say you’re not right, Bells, but you’re spot on,” Chris replied with a sigh. “I’m going to get a taxi into Osaka to rescue him, can I trust you guys with the bus for an hour or so? I’ve got my phone on me if anything happens.”  
  
Matthew grinned, eyes shining with innocence; a trick he’d learned when he was ten, he once explained to Dom. “Of course,” he replied with a smile. “Good luck, mate,” he said, lifting his empty bottle in a toast. Rolling his eyes, Chris let the curtain fall back across, and the men left behind listened to his receding footsteps and finally, the sound of the bus door slamming shut.  
  
The two remaining on the bus sat in a stretched silence, broken only by Matt’s occasional fidgeting. The drummer eventually sucked in a breath and mumbled, “Would it change your opinion of me if I had?”  
  
Matt blinked at him, mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out.  
  
“Would it change your opinion of me if my mouth had given pleasure to another man?” Dom said softly, eyes locking with Matt’s as he slowly licked his lips. “If my tongue had worked another man to completion?” The singer was beginning to squirm uncomfortably, unable to tear himself away but so desperately wanting to. “If my lips had--”  
  
“No!” Matt said loudly, holding up a hand to silence Dom’s teasing words. “No, for  _fuck’s_  sake, Dom, no. It would not change my opinion of you.”  
  
“Alright, then,” the drummer said, almost resignedly. “Well, I have.”  
  
“Fine,” Matthew said, looking away as his fingers peeled the label off his empty bottle of their own accord. Eyes widening, a devious smile curled his lips up at the corners. “Hey, Dom?”  
  
“Yeah?” the drummer replied, the tips of his ears tinted pink.  
  
“You like a bit of competition, don’t you?” Matthew asked, grinning as his friend did the same.  
  
“Of course,” Dominic drawled, watching Matt’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.  
  
“You’ll like this, then,” he slowly said with a grin. “Have you ever heard of a phone moan?”

 

*

Tom fumbled restlessly with his phone, hopping from one foot to the other as his eyes shifted from face to face, searching for the familiar features of Chris. The loud chatter of the Japanese citizens around him was beginning to make him feel insubstantially small and, running a hand through his hair, he attempted to make sense of his situation.

He had left the bus, his camera around his neck, with the sole intention of taking some pictures of the city of Osaka; he’d been told it was beautiful and certainly worth a visit. As the sun had dipped below the horizon, however, and the neon lights affixed to the buildings had spluttered to life, the lure of the colours and music had been a little  _too_  intoxicating. He had strayed too far away from the streets he recognised, snapping pictures left, right and centre, and before he knew it, he was lost in the swarm of pedestrians enclosing him on all sides.

Shivering in the cold wind that wound through the streets, he sat down on the kerb and hugged his legs to his chest, resting his chin on his knees and letting out a long sigh. He glanced down at his watch and back up at the people milling around, ignoring the confused glances from several passers-by. It was remarkably unnerving to be lost in a place filled with so many people that wanted him, but who he didn’t want. It was worse than being dragged along to a Women’s Institute meeting by his mother as a  _teen_.

Even as he sat, somebody began to tap him furiously on the back. He looked up to see a beaming Japanese man, yelling at him in a language that sounded vaguely like English. “You have camera?” he said loudly, gesturing with abandon.

Tom squinted, nodding slowly. “Yeah,” he said.

“You take pictures?” the man continued, miming the action with his hands.

Tom nodded once more, unsure what the man was trying to get across. “Why?” he asked. “Do you want me to take a picture of you and your friends?” he said, gesturing to the men crowding around the stranger.

The man looked behind him to see the throngs of men who had appeared suddenly behind him and nodded wildly. They gathered together and Tom stood up from the kerb, brushing down his trousers and positioning his camera just right to take a few photos.

Eventually, once he had sifted quickly through the pictures on his cameras to show the overly excited men, they dissipated, leaving only the first man and Tom to stare awkwardly at each other. “You should come out with us!” the man said gleefully. “We make sure you have... fun!”

Tom cocked his head to the side. “I’m sorry, what?” He moved to step away, thinking he had misheard, and then felt a sharp slap to his rear. He looked back at the man, who was wiggling his eyebrows and grinning in a rather suggestive manner. “I’m not interested,” Tom squeaked. “I am  _so_  not interested!”

He turned abruptly and began to walk away, one foot in front of the other at a ridiculously fast pace. Chris’ arrival could not come any sooner, or who knew what would happen.

*

_“Have you ever heard of a phone moan?”_

“What the fuck is a phone moan?” Dominic said, confused but shaking his head in laughter at his friend. Matthew sat up as he always did when he was getting ready to talk about something at full speed.

“It’s a game. A  _sex_  game,” he said, tilting his head and giving Dom  _the look_  before resuming his explanation. “It all revolves around someone getting a blow job, and trying to hold a conversation while they’re receiving it.”

“Sounds like a shit game,” the blond dismissed with a flick of his head. “I couldn’t fucking talk with a mouthful of cock, could I?”

“No, you twat,” was the reply, Matt lightly smacking him on the arm. “And should I take that as you wanting to bottom?” Taking Dominic’s silence as a  _yes_ , he carried on. “The person getting the blow job has to try to hold a normal conversation with someone on a phone, who doesn’t know about the game. As soon as the person on the phone cottons on, the game ends.”

Dominic stroked his chin for a second. “It’s Chris or Tom, isn’t it?” he asked quietly, a smirk on his lips.

“Tom sounds traumatised enough tonight. It’ll be Chris.”

Laughing, Dominic picked up his empty beer bottle to spin it slowly on the carpet. “You said it was a competition?”

Matthew’s eyes glittered as his favourite part of the game came into play. “It is. The person receiving head has to try to make the conversation last without getting sussed; the person giving head has to do their best to make them moan and writhe.”

The way those final words rolled off Matthew’s tongue had Dom doing just that. “Final question,” the drummer said, grasping Matthew’s skinny wrist in a perfectly normal fashion. His grey eyes traced the fake veins snaking along his forearm. Dragging his gaze up the lithe body, he met Matthew’s lustful (or possibly just drunken) expression. “How are we going to do this?”

Matthew rolled his blue eyes, pouting. “You need to take my trousers off first, you dick.”

“Oi, I know  _that_. I mean, are you gonna ring Chris yet or do I have to... get you started?” Dom blinked, shifting under his friend’s gaze as his thumb ran over the light bumps on Matt’s wrist that were his real veins.

Matt shrugged, leaning back on the bean bag and giving the drummer a mischievous grin. “Whatever you want,” he said playfully, lips twitching.

“Um...” Dom looked down at the singer, chewing on his bottom lip. “Should I...?”

Matthew reached up a hand to tug at the tips of his red hair. “Should you  _what_ , Dom?” he teased, enjoying the fact that Dom seemed nervous for once in his sexual life.

The drummer fidgeted uncomfortably, unsure of how to phrase his question. “Should I kiss you?”

“Is it in the rules?”

Dominic sighed impatiently. “I don’t know, Matt. You made up the rules.”

“I’m adding a new rule,” Matthew replied almost immediately, pushing himself up on his elbows. “I want you to kiss me.”

“Is that the beer talking, or--?”

“Shut up and fucking kiss me, Dom,” Matthew snapped, and Dom - more than gladly, he found - complied. Their lips touched lightly at first, Matthew jerking at the contact. A feeling settled in the pit of Dom’s stomach, warm and pleasant. It curled around his tummy, making him feel lightheaded, as Matt’s lips moved ever so lightly against his. He shifted above Matt, one hand cupping his cheek and the other running through his red hair. After a few moments of simply testing the waters, Dominic’s tongue darted out to press against Matt’s closed lips, silently demanding entry. Matthew’s lips parted, the drummer’s tongue slowly roving over the roof of his friend’s mouth and finally to Matthew’s own tongue. There was no doubt that it felt  _odd_ , kissing the man he had come to see as something like a brother for so long, but more than the strangeness of the situation, it was leaving Dominic painfully, well,  _hard_.

Settling between Matthew’s legs easily, the drummer’s strong arms moved to hold himself up over the smaller man, who laced spindly fingers through short blond hair and traced them down his spine. Dom let out a quiet moan which was swallowed by Matthew as he felt the lower hand cup his arse. The hand trailed back up and around, latching onto the seam of his t-shirt as it went and exposing his stomach.

Matthew broke off their kiss, mumbling, “I want to see you.”

“That’s not in the rules,” Dominic smirked, as he felt himself being pushed into a nearby cushion with Matthew looming over him. The dim lighting at this end of the bus cast dark shadows over the frontman’s face, cheekbones highlighted and pupils wide.

“Fuck the rules,” he murmured, kissing the corner of Dom’s mouth and lifting the t-shirt above his nipples. Breaking apart, Dominic stretched his arms high above his head, watching as Matthew curiously studied the flexing muscles in his biceps. Remembering himself, he pushed the fabric over Dom’s head and heard it fall to the floor unceremoniously. He reached out with a long-fingered hand and lightly brushed the drummer’s stomach, which quivered under his touch. He looked up briefly to see Dominic swallow, his eyes fixed on Matt’s fingers.

Matthew splayed out his hand on Dom’s skin, watching with his head tilted slightly as it moved under his probing fingers. There was a childlike curiosity to the singer’s movements, as he looked with interest over Dom’s torso. His hand made its way, spider-like, up to Dom’s nipples, covering one with his palm. He sat back, his legs on either side of Dom, feeling the drummer’s heartbeat under his hand.

“Matt?” Dom said softly.

“Hmm?” Matt looked up, eyes fogged slightly, as if he had just woken up from a daydream.

“I think,” Dom said, sitting up and sliding his hands under Matt’s shirt, “that we should switch places.”

The red-haired man grinned impishly, lips pressing lightly against Dom’s jawbone as he nodded his agreement. The drummer, using light pressure, pushed Matthew back onto the cushions, one hand flattening over Matt’s stomach. The impact of what they were doing hit Dom suddenly, and he blinked, startled. Chris could hate them forever, if he didn’t approve of their practical joke.

“Are you sure you want to--?”

“Yes,” Matt cut into Dom’s question firmly. “Yes. Fuck, Dom, just...  _hurry up_.”

Dom’s concerned frown slipped into a smile as the light caught Matthew’s red hair, his fingers hooking under the waistband of Matt’s jeans and tugging them down to gather around his slim thighs. Matt sat up on his elbows, watching with interest as Dom applied a gentle pressure to Matt’s half-hardness.

“‘M gonna phone Chris now,” Matt whispered, reaching for his mobile phone. After struggling for a moment with the interface, he pressed the device to his ear. “Hey, Chris,” he said after a moment. “It’s Matt. Have you found Tom yet?”

Chris seemed a little disgruntled. “No. He basically told me there were tons of gay blokes wandering around and begged me to find him, then hung up. Could he  _be_  any more vague?”

Matt bit his lip as Dom finally pulled down his boxers, settling himself comfortably between Matt’s spread legs. “He could have just told you that he was ‘somewhere’. That’d be more vague. At least you’ve got something to go on.” He coughed lightly, nudging Dom’s side with his knee and pulling a face.

Chris hummed. “Yeah, well, I don’t know how long I’m gonna be. I’ll phone you back if anything happens, right?”

“Wait, hang on,” Matt yelped, as Dominic blew a stream of air over the very tip of his cock. “I need to ask you something,” he said, as he hooked his knees over Dom’s shoulders.

Chris was silent for a moment. “Ask me what, Bells?”

Dom chose his moment well, Matt had to admit. While the singer was furiously trying to think of something to ask Chris that would spark a long conversation, his lips pressed against the head of his cock before he opened his mouth and created a tight circle. Matt involuntarily thrusted into the warm heat of Dom’s mouth, swallowing hard. “Erm... There’s this girl I like,” he lied desperately. “And I was wondering if you’d be able to help me ask her out...?  _Ohhhhhh_ \--” he let out a gasp as his cock touched the roof of Dom’s mouth. “--how I like her,” he finished his exclamation meekly. He glanced down at Dom, who, despite having a mouthful of his now hard length, seemed to be smirking.

The drummer’s tongue swirled against Matt’s head and his hips bucked upwards, his breath catching in a slight squeak.

“Right,” Chris said, scratching his head and looking around. Judging by the way those two men probably weren’t just talking in that nearby alleyway, he’d entered the gay district. “Is she back home, or somewhere here or...?”

“Oh, oh, oh no,” Matt panted, fisting his free hand in his shock of red hair as he swallowed a shout, Dom’s tongue working wonders. He was desperate to make this last, no matter how long Chris would hate him. “She’s right here,” he said, one of Dominic’s hands tugging at Matthew’s wrist, the singer biting back a moan as he was encouraged to pull on Dom’s (probably too short for the job) hair. “In my heart,” he hastened to add, as he felt a hand begin to fondle his balls.

“She’s really good with her hands,” Matt continued, a quiet “oops” escaping into the thick and heavy air of the tour bus. “I mean,” he said, Dominic winking and giving an extra hard suck, “she’s a mechanic!”

Chris guffawed, a nearby man in drag turning towards him and pushing up his fake tits as some kind of advertisement. With a shake of his head, his eyes landed on a lonely figure sitting on the kerb with his head in his hands. “A pretty girl who knows her way around a car. Let me guess, her favourite hobby is having sex?”

“Oh,  _yes_ ,” Matthew moaned as one of Dominic’s fingers traced the sensitive skin near his entrance. “I mean... sometimes,” he said, tearing his eyes from Dom’s as he failed at backtracking. “She’s really good at  _dommmmmmm_ inating in the bedroom,” he moaned with eyes wide, the blond below him releasing his cock with a pop and grinning as he continued to wank him. “Really, really good,” he breathed with a sigh of relief and hopelessness, as Dominic’s thumb and index finger tightly closed around the base of his cock to warn off his orgasm. Relief, because he wasn’t in danger of losing the game. Hopelessness, because it was obvious that Dominic was intent on winning.

“Thanks for the insight into your sex life, Matt. Not like I hear enough of it in the tour bus. The walls are quite thin, by the way,” Chris said with a sigh, still smirking as he shouted “Tom!” and the media manager looked up, grinning. “Look, mate, I really have to--”

“Chris, no, don’t go!” Matt cried, Dominic placing sloppy kisses down the side of his cock, blowing across them and laughing quietly as Matthew’s stomach tensed. “I  _really_  need your help!” he shouted, the echo chasing the darkness throughout the bus. “I mean, he--  _she_ , I--”

“Alright, calm down,” the bassist said calmly, shaking Tom off his arm as he thanked him for  _saving him from unknown terrors_. After reminding him that he was a big boy now, he turned his attention back to his _other_  distraught friend. “Well, have you two slept together? Girls get worked up about that,” he informed him.

“Not technically,” Matt replied, eyes wide as he watched Dominic take his cock back into his warm, wet mouth again. Shuddering, the hand lingering in the drummer’s hair moved to the back of his head, holding it steady and shallowly thrusting into the vacuum Dom created. “We’ve--  _ooooooh!_ ” the front man moaned as the head of his cock brushed the back of Dom’s throat, grey eyes watching his every reaction. Stuttering, he quickly saved himself. “We’ve fooled about a bit, yeah.”

“What d’you mean,  _fooled about_?” Chris said carefully. “Elaborate, Bells. Details are everything to women.”

Matt shuddered as Dom licked languidly up his length before taking him wholly into his mouth again. “I thought you didn’t wanna hear about my sex life!” Matt practically yelled down the line, his free hand tugging at Dom’s hair relentlessly.

“Jesus, Matt, calm the fuck down!” Chris’s voice was complacent. He chuckled wryly. “Well, okay then. What exactly is it that you like about her?”

Matthew looked down at the drummer clenched deliciously between his thighs. “Christ...” he thought for a moment, tugging on his bottom lip. “Well... she has really,  _really_  soft blonde hair and full lips and grey eyes and...” he let out a heated whimper as Dom’s hand began trailing down his own body, a finger circling his left nipple before it fluttered to the front of his jeans teasingly, winking as he began to palm himself. “Oh,  _fuck_ ,” he growled, bright blue eyes tracing the outline of Dom’s erection pressing against the baggy material.

“What?” Chris sounded panicked. “Bells, are you okay?”

“Just... stubbed my toe,” Matt panted. “Ow,” he added unconvincingly, “my toe.”

Chris paused for a moment and Matt began to panic, wondering if perhaps the bassist had hung up on him. “Chris?” he asked uncertainly. “Chris, are you still there?”

“Matt, what the fuck is up with you?” Chris asked.

“Nothing!” Matt shouted into the phone. “Nothing at all! I’m just... thinking about her. She’s...  _God_ , she’s so perfect. So good...” he muttered softly, eyes locking with Dom’s.

The drummer’s lips left his cock for a moment, the heel of his hand rubbing against his jeans as Matt squirmed uncomfortably. “Fuck,” Dom whispered as the fingers of his free hand teased Matt’s balls. “Come for me, Matt,” he said, his voice low as his mouth was once again filled entirely by Matt’s hard length.

Matt’s lips parted in a heated moan of pleasure, his head falling back onto the cushions as he momentarily forgot about the man listening on the other end of the phone. “Fuck,” he hissed, long fingers fisting in blond hair. “Can’t...”

“Can’t what?” Chris’s confused voice on the phone startled the singer. “Matt? What are you even doing? Is something wrong?”

There was a long pause as Matt tugged on his bottom lip, his crooked tooth on display as he attempted to think of something to tell his friend. “Dom’s... massaging my feet,” he said quietly, another moan following his words.

“Bloody hell, mate, if he’s that good, tell him he can do me next.”

“I don’t think you’d...  _fuck_... want him to,” Matt slurred.

Dom pulled away again, wet kisses pressed to the singer’s length with a painfully long pause between them. “Want me all to yourself?” he mouthed, moving slightly. His nose brushed against Matt’s inner thigh, a delighted giggle bursting from between the singer’s lips.

“Yes  _please_!” the singer yelped.

“Yes please  _what_?” Chris’s voice was slow as he ingested the singer’s odd behaviour. Tom was standing beside him, prodding him repeatedly in the side as he attempted to understand the conversation from only hearing half of it.

“What’s going  _on_?” Tom said, actually stamping his foot on the ground in his anger. “Why is nobody telling me anything?”

“Shut up,” Chris replied, shaking his shaggy head at Tom. “I’m talking to Matt.”

Back on the bus, Dominic seemed to have stopped. His lips were just touching the end of Matt’s cock, his body unmoving, but the singer above him writhed silently. His tongue lathered Matt’s head, gladly sweeping away the beads of precome, until he suddenly shifted and took the frontman to the hilt, his nose being tickled by the dark, curly hairs surrounding the base of Matt’s cock. The singer let out a delirious scream, free hand clutching at one of the cushions beside him. “Fuck!” he moaned.

It took a few moments for Chris to grasp the noises that his friend was making. “Wait, Matt, are you having  _sex_?”

“Well, shit.” The redheaded man giggled despite the fact that he had just lost the game. “Although tech... technically,  _no_. It’s more of a blowjob, really. He’s really fucking good,” he added feverishly, gulping down air as he arched into Dominic’s touch.

Chris blinked hard, Tom quirking an eyebrow at him. “Oh...  _oh_... for fuck’s sake.”

The line went dead, the phone sliding from Matthew’s shaking fingers and landing on the floor with a thump. He licked his lips, pressing them together and staring down at Dom, who seemed not to have realised that he had just won, he was that absorbed in giving pleasure. Giving the singer’s cock a slow suck, the drummer’s hand slipped under the waistband of his jeans. This particular movement did not go unnoticed by Matt, the coil at the bottom of his stomach tightening significantly.

“Dom,” he said, the deep husk in his voice making the drummer open his eyes. Looking up, he saw Matthew with his mouth hanging slack, eyes fluttering closed and one of his hands pulling at his hair, fake veins competing with real ones for prominence. “I’m gonna come,” he gasped, his eyes snapping open to look down at Dominic. Grey eyes bored back into his own, silently telling him that he knew, of course.

And he didn’t make a single move to do anything about it.

Realising this, Matthew moaned loudly, both hands flying to the back of Dominic’s head, the heels of his palms brushing his ears. “Yes, Dom,  _yes_ ,” he whispered reverently as he bucked once, twice, screaming as his hot come spurted into Dominic’s willing mouth, the blond continuing to suck as if to draw every single drop from him. With a gulp, Dominic swallowed and slowly pulled Matthew’s cock from his mouth, kissing away any stray come. Tucking the singer back into his boxers, a dribble of the sticky substance escaped his mouth and smeared across his lip.

The silence on the bus was eerie, after all the sexual noises had melted into the walls. Minutes passed as the men panted, the only source of sound in the room aside from the sound of a fly unzipping. “Wh-- what are you doing?” Matt asked softly, sitting up on his elbows to better see the drummer. His chest was shining with sweat and his hair was damp at the nape of his neck.

“You look so sexy like that,” Dom mumbled, pulling his hand away from his crotch and crawling towards Matthew. Sliding up his friend’s body and locking their lips together once more, Matthew gripped Dominic’s hips tightly when he could taste himself on Dom’s warm lips and tongue. Matt’s fingers brushed up Dom’s spine as the drummer pulled away, one strong hand disappearing into his boxers. “Fuck, Matt, you’re gorgeous.”

Matt’s head dropped, focused on Dom’s hand. He reached out and began to tug off the drummer’s jeans, curiosity glinting in his eyes. “Chris sussed me out,” he breathed against Dom’s ear, one hand scratching lightly at the blond’s lower back.

“I guess I won,” Dom replied with a wry grin.

Matt nodded, his lips pressing light kisses along Dominic’s jawbone. “You won. And now it’s time for your prize.” His hands latched onto Dom’s boxers, pulling them down in one swift movement. “Fuck me.”

*

Tom’s hand was tapping repeatedly against Chris’s arm. “Chris!” he shouted, clapping a hand over his mouth when he saw a group of men turn and wave at them. They weren’t out of the woods yet.

Tom had been hoping they would leave the district, when Chris had rescued him. However, the bassist had rooted himself to the spot with the phone held to his ear, his expressions becoming more confused until he’d hung up the phone. “What the fuck was all that about? Was that Matt?” Tom asked quickly.

Chris nodded, eyes wide and vacant. He picked up one heavy leg and began to slowly walk away from the blinking neon lights. “There was a lot of giggling... and moaning,” he said, watching blankly as a passing stranger blew Tom a kiss.

The photographer, however, ignored this gesture. “Wait, Matt?”

“Yeah.”

“And you said he was having sex?”

“Yeah,” Chris repeated, “well, no. He said he was getting a blowjob.”

“Mmm,  _nice_ mental image there,” Tom replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. They walked a few more steps before the penny dropped. “Wait, who from?”

Chris turned his head and gave him a look, before Tom’s hands flew to his ears and he started singing loudly.

“No, no, no, I don’t believe you!” he shouted, Chris finally seeing the funny side of it all and letting out a booming laugh. “I just... Dom?  _Really_?” Tom shook his head to himself, blowing out a stream of air. “We should’ve seen that coming, to be honest. No pun intended,” he hastened to add with a shy smirk.

“Oh,  _God_ ,” Chris groaned, laughing despite himself. “Tom, I think we’d better check into a hotel tonight,” he said, looking around to ascertain whether they were in the clear or not. He decided they weren’t; there was still too much male skin on display for this to be the  _normal_  part of Osaka.

“Getting ideas yourself, hey, Chris?” Tom chided, digging his elbow into the taller man’s ribs. Sighing, Chris pulled out a box of cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans, offering one to Tom, who gladly accepted.

“Don’t you even fucking start,” Chris warned, a harmless expression on his face, “or I’ll throw you to the gays. Trust me, it’ll be worse than spending tonight in the  _love_  bus.”

Tom shuddered, lighting his cigarette and then Chris’. No, nothing could be worse than that.


End file.
